


everything

by sadonsundays



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: M/M, Stranded, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadonsundays/pseuds/sadonsundays
Summary: “Are they true?” Carrillo asks.Peña tilts his head.“The rumors,” Carrillo clarifies.





	everything

**Author's Note:**

> an "early days" take on javier/horacio

Peña has no idea how long they’ve been here. 

It’s hot as hell, the Colombian sun shining down relentlessly. He spares a glance at Carrillo but quickly dodges his eyes. 

He's ashamed, embarressed. It’s his fault they’re stuck. 

He insisted on checking out one of Pablo’s older, more established fincas, even though there had been a day of torrential downpour leading up to the trip. 

He took Carrillo as back up and no one else— believing the home to be long abandoned. Which it was.

However, getting out of it was another matter altogether. 

The easiest way was down the back on the side of a steep hill, which was caked in rocks, branches, and mud. And the way they came was quickly overtaken by a pop-up stream of rainwater.

They’ve both tried to contact the precinct but the signal keeps shorting out. Realistically, Peña knows they’ll send someone soon. But until then they’ve got nowhere to go. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” Carrillo says, kicking at a dirty, CNP Jeep wheel. 

Peña laughs. “It’s mutual.”

DC’s sending Peña a partner by the end of the year but he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Carrillo’s been his pseudo partner for awhile now and Peña likes the dynamic they have going on—even if he doesn’t actually know much about the incredibly private man.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “You want?”

Carrillo glances at him, frowning. “I’m trying to quit.”

Peña nods his head. “Ah.”

He grins as he lights up and inhales deep.

“Me too,” he exhales. 

Carrillo shrugs him off, walking back towards the finca. 

“Where're you going?”

“To explore,” Carrillo calls over his shoulder. 

Peña tries the radio twice more before giving up and following him. 

Thunder rolls in the distance, still far off. But it's coming their way. 

"Fuck me," Peña groans, moving towards Escobar's house. 

It's one of his more modest establishments. There’s no pool, no extensive outdoor patio. He doesn’t even many electronics at this location. Anything Peña and Carrillo could find of interest sits in the back of their Jeep already. 

Peña’s immediately bored upon entry. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to come to us?” Carrillo asks from the kitchen sink, looking out the window. 

Peña stands beside him, noting the dark clouds gathering over the mountains. “Not sure. But that doesn’t look good.”

Carrillo nods, humming under his breath. 

“Goddammit,” Peña mutters, frowning. 

Carrillo turns around, looking at him as he leans against the sink. “We may be here overnight, Agent Peña.”

Peña wants to disagree, argue that maybe they’ll send up a chopper. But the land surrounding them is already messy and wet, set to become even more hazardous if they’re hit with another storm. 

Carrillo starts rummaging around the kitchen. “We’ll need candles and matches—just in case.”

“I’m sorry Horacio,” Peña sighs, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, “I shouldn’t have dragged you out here with me.”

Carrillo waves him off, making his way into the next room in search of supplies. 

Peña’s grateful for the lack of a dramatic reaction. He doesn’t know if he could handle another problem right now. 

“Make yourself useful,” Carrillo calls. 

Peña scoffs under his breath, rolling his eyes somewhat fondly. 

One thing he’s learning to respect about Carrillo is his direct attitude. He doesn’t believe on dwelling or placing blame. He sees a problem for what it is and executes a plan based on facts and information. He thinks before he speaks. He isn’t hot headed. 

He balances Peña.

Peña can only hope whoever Washington sends will be the same way. 

They locate tequila in an old storage trunk about an hour or so later, setting up to get pleasantly tipsy assuming no one’s coming for them tonight. 

They sit around a coffee table in the main room for awhile, drinking lazily and telling war stories from their youth. 

Carrillo was smart to locate candles ahead of time seeing as the clouds turned into the current, raging storm outside. 

Peña was also able to build a small fire in the pit before the power was completely knocked out--leaving them both warm and loose. 

It's cozy, despite their current situation. 

Peña stares at Carrillo, alcohol slowing the sense that tells him not to do so. 

The soft light bathes Carrillo in a warm glow, making him look angelic. Giddiness rises in Peña’s stomach and he has to laugh at how ridiculous his thoughts sound. 

He’s definitely drunk. 

“What a fucking day,” he observes, buzzed and giggling. 

Carrillo bites his lip, raising his eyebrows. “You okay over there, gringo?”

Peña sticks his tongue out at him, like a child. “M’not a gringo,” he mutters, petulant. 

Carrillo reaches across the table, playfully punching his bicep. “I’m just messing with you, Javier.”

A shiver wracks through Peña’s body unexpectedly. He doesn’t reply for a few moments. 

Carrillo watches him, an odd look on his face. 

“What is it?” He asks. 

Peña shakes his head, getting up quickly. “Gotta piss.” 

He tries to clear his mind as he walks away but the fluttering sensation in his belly won’t dissapear. 

On his way back from the bathroom thunder crashes outside, startling him so badly he thinks someone’s trying to break in. 

“Oh fuck!” He shouts, panicked. 

Carrillo comes around the corner, gun cocked and eyes wide. “What is it?” He asks urgently. 

“Thought someone was here,” Peña replies, heart racing. 

Carrillo cracks a grin, shaking his head and lowering his weapon. He so rarely smiles Peña’s momentarily blown away by how handsome he looks. 

He smiles back. “Sorry.”

Carrillo steps into his space, and the alcohol must be hitting him like it’s hitting Peña because he never gets this close. 

“We’re all alone,” he says, eyes darting to Peña’s lips, “no one here but us.”

The way he says it sparks arousal in Peña, growing and prominent and impossible to ignore. 

“Yeah?” Peña breathes. 

Carrillo leans into the opposite wall, Peña follows, leaning into him. 

“Are they true?” Carrillo asks.

Peña tilts his head. 

“The rumors,” Carrillo clarifies.

Peña moves forward, liquid courage flowing through his veins as he rests his forehead on Carrillo’s shoulder. 

He doesn’t answer for a moment, listening to the rain pounding on the roof outside—letting the tension build. 

He presses the tip of his nose to the smooth skin of Carrillo’s neck, inhaling his crisp and smokey scent. 

He slides a leg between Carrillo’s thighs, excitement flooding him as he registers the hard cock against his leg. 

Peña kisses his skin, taunting, sensual. “What have you heard?”

Carrillo’s head rolls back, exposing more of his neck. “That you’re an excellent lover—“

Carrillo wraps his arms around Peña’s shoulders, pulling him even closer. “That you make every person you sleep with come—“

Peña bites down on his neck, sucking at it hard and unforgiving as he unbuckles Carrillo’s belt. 

“Are you going to make me come, Javier?” Carrillo’s voice is higher, softer. It’s a stark contrast to the loud storm outside the house and the silent one inside Peña's head. He doesn't know what he's doing but he can act like he does. 

He spits the collecting drool from his cheek onto his hand, arching his hips into Carrillo’s as he pulls his cock out. 

“Lemme see you,” he whispers desperately against Carrillo’s jaw, aching between his legs. 

“Wana make you come,” he sighs, moving his damp hand up and down in firm strokes along Carrillo's smooth, hot cock. 

“Gonna make you come,” he promises, biting at Carrillo's lower lip. 

“Kiss me,” Carrillo pleads, pressing tender pecks against his forehead, his cheekbone, the soft corner of his mouth. 

Peña closes his eyes, leaning in and opening for him like a flower in bloom. When their tongues touch Carrillo gasps into Peña’s mouth, stuttering and choppy like he’s in pain. 

Peña tightens his grip even more around Carrillo’s slick cock, encouraging him with filthy words and even filthier movements to just—let—go—

“Javier,” Carrillo cries out, nails digging into Peña’s shoulders as he orgasms in the space between them.

Peña doesn’t waste time, using the come coating his hand to jack himself off into the toned muscles of Carrillo’s lower stomach. 

“That’s it,” Carrillo urges, voice soothing and calm as he wraps his own hand around Peña’s cock, “come for me—come, Javier—“

Peña doesn’t remember the last time he came so quickly. Probably when he was just a boy, first learning how to touch himself. 

Even though they didn’t drag it out, his thighs still shake with the pure satisfaction of it, the delightful tremor running through him from top to bottom. 

“Come here,” Peña mumbles, eyes closed, “kiss me—“

Carrillo wraps a hand around the back of Peña’s neck, firm and possessive. 

There’s heat between them as the storm rages on outside, masking their quiet moans. 

Peña has no idea what this means. Somewhere in the back of his head this feels like a colossal fuck up. He works with this man, has to see him everyday. This isn’t just some hooker he can pay to go away. 

He also cares for Carrillo, has come to respect his work ethic, his training methods, his unbreakable dedication to the force. 

His head pounds frantically.

He steps back, making sure to tuck Carrillo's cock back in before he does himself. He doesn’t know why but he grabs Carrillo’s hand, leading them both out of the living room. 

“Javier,” Carrillo says, sounding wary and exhausted.

Peña leads him into the first bedroom he finds, depositing him on the mattress before seeking out a washcloth. 

He cleans himself up, then Carrillo. Touches brief yet no less significant. 

The storm outside has quieted down to a steady drizzle, hypnotic in its lullaby. 

Peña puts the fire out in the other room before returning to his sleeping partner. 

Carrillo's lying down, motioning for Peña to come next to him. 

He takes his shirt off then he walks over. He's asleep before his head even hits the pillow.

When he wakes in the middle night, nudging back into the warmth of Carrillo’s body, he lets himself savor the temporary calm caressing the edges of his brain. 

He falls back into a dreamless slumber. 

When the sun rises the rain has passed. 

And when the sun sets Peña goes home alone.

**Author's Note:**

> ((SHAMELESS begging ahead)) please share your thoughts--it means the world to me! title taken from fm-84's "everything"-- i encourage everyone to listen


End file.
